This Night
by Lady Cardea
Summary: I would never forget that night when Fate brought us together. He was a disaster, beautiful in every way. I never got the chance to tell him that I loved him. But I had.  [DMxGW] Oneshot. Song fic to 'This Night' by Black Lab.


**I'm up at 4 in the morning and this was just bursting to come out of me. So here you are, one angsty one-shot of what happens during Ginny's sixth year. Not much dialogue, which I'm not used to, but it was nice to write. **

**Disclaimer- I don't own any of the characters in this fic, or the song which it is based all, called 'This Night' by Black Lab. If you can listen to it whilest you read this, it would add to its' splendor. **

**Happy Reading. Or, not so happy.**

-.-.-.-

_There are things I have done._

_There's a place I have gone._

_There's a beast and I let it run,_

_Now it's running my way._

-.-.-

I had never had much of an opinion of Draco Malfoy before my fifth year at Hogwarts, aside from the constant war between our families which had been started and continued since before any living Weasleys could remember, but that year changed everything.

After the string of incidents with Malfoy during my fifth year which led up to Dumbledore's eventual death, no one had expected him to show his face again. Everyone blamed him for the legendary wizard's unfortunate demise, despite the fact that he had not been the actual wizard to cast the curse. He had planned for this, his moment of glory, for a year, but when the time came he had failed.

This could not go unnoticed, everyone knew and though no one voiced their thoughts on the matter, no one expected him to return the next year. It was assumed he would be killed before the summer was through, if not by his father, then Voldemort himself.

However, to everyone's surprise, when September 1st came around Draco Malfoy was aboard the train for the seventh September in a row, locking himself away in a compartment to himself. He was shunned by his own house and considered vile to everyone else, because he was, of course, the reason that the favorite wizard of most of the wizarding world was now dead.

I had never expected to feel anything except hate for him. He was always my enemy, since the day I took my first breath. Even before that, I was destined to despise him. But there was something about the haunted shadow in his stormy grey eyes that drew me to him.

So I watched. Every day was the same for this boy, now an outcast, with no friends to speak of. He awoke early and sat beside the lake, his graceful blond figure silhouetted perfectly through the fog from the window of my Gryffindor dormitory. Every morning I awoke to this sight and he did not fail me once.

By the time I reached the Great Hall each morning he would be sitting quietly at the end of his house's table, being openly ridiculed and mocked by the entirety of his house and the rest of the school. I watched then as he stood solemnly and walked to his classes. He reminded me of a zombie, with no purpose but to be alive.

When classes were over he would attend supper in the same spot at the edge of his table, leaving before some students even reached the Great Hall. One night, I followed him unnoticed and he returned to his secluded spot at the edge of the lake, staring over the dark waters as if to ask for council. He was haunted; disturbed, and something inside of me ticked.

It wasn't until November that the urge to approach him clicked in my head. I knew better, of course, but I decided to follow him after supper anyway. He must have known I'd be watching him.

Little did I know the consequences of my actions that night would affect me forever. I still remember perfectly the way his muscular form curved, knees pulled loosely into his chest. His head was bent gracefully, his platinum blond hair falling over those stormy eyes. I walked behind him slowly, not sure what I expected. It was raining hard, but he didn't seem to notice.

He looked up when he realized I had joined him. His eyes were red with dark bags beneath them. He hadn't slept in ages and the second I saw perspiration flowing down his face I knew that he was crying, and his cheeks were not only dampened by the raindrops, but his tears.

He didn't scowl, or smirk, or yell. He didn't say a word. I watched him with studious eyes, knowing I should not be here, but I was.

His hand was pushed forward, telling me to stop. I knew he didn't mean it.

I fell to my knees beside this boy and grasped his hand in mine. He no longer resisted. His legs unfolded and he crumpled before me, head on my chest and I let him, keeping his hand in mine.

He stopped crying after a while and we just sat in silence, looking over the soft waves in the black water of the lake. One of my hands was still loosely connected with his own, soaked from the rain which had stopped an hour ago.

As I stood to go he nodded at me as if to thank me. I nodded back, and he knew I would return. How he knew I was never sure. I had not even known I would return, but I did. The very next night I was beside him again, drying his eyes. This continued for weeks, though he stopped crying after the first one or two. That was when he spoke.

I approached the dark figure at the lake one night in early December. He was waiting I knew, and as I sat beside him he took my hand, just like the night before, and before that. We sat in silence for what seemed like an hour before he spoke. It was the first time I had heard his voice in months, but something was different. He was no longer high and pompous, but broken and humble.

"I didn't mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving the lake. "I tried. But I didn't mean it; _couldn't_ mean it."

I watched him carefully though his emotion never faltered. The stony expression never left those eyes.

"I couldn't do it," he whispered into the night his gaze then meeting mine.

I hugged him. "Of course you couldn't."

_-.-.-_

_There are things I regret,_

_But you can forgive, you can't forget_

_There's a gift that you sent_

_You sent it my way._

_-.-.-_

After that night Draco and I had a sort of understanding. We were seen together at school and thought by many to be dating. Slytherins sneered in our direction. The others questioned me, wondering why I would associate with such a pathetic excuse for a wizard. I was reminded many times how disapproving Harry would be if he returned to discover that his most previous girlfriend, the love of his wretched life, was befriending the enemy.

But I didn't care. Nothing mattered except that I was no longer alone. He understood. We talked for hours in his private quarters, which he had received due to no other Slytherin boy wishing to be in the same room as a traitor, about everything. Everything except the start of the previous summer. Never had we mentioned it since that night.

He told me about his family. His mother was a strong-willed woman and she loved him. There had even been a time when his father had loved him as well. I, in turn, told him of my family. They loved me, but I did not need to say so. He knew. He never insulted me once that year. What shocked me more was that he trusted me. I was all he had; his only friend.

Christmas came and I opted to stay at Hogwarts. My parents were regretful as they had wished to see me, but getting around that was easy enough. I spent the entirety of that break in the Slytherin Common Room and Draco's room. He was the only one left.

Christmas morning I awoke beside him and we exchanged gifts. His, a leather bound journal engraved with his name in the bottom right corner, a tree similar to the one we had met at only two months before snaking up the left side. He had smiled at me, a genuine smile, never mentioning that he knew I had bought it with a low budget and it was nothing to be treasured. He thanked me by using it for months.

My gift was more special, I thought. It was a family heirloom his mother had given him before he was stricken from the family tree: a silver locket in the shape of a heart, two intricate roses intertwining on the face. I had smiled in sheer happiness as he hooked it around my neck. I hugged him and we proceeded to breakfast, not bothering to change from our night clothes.

The looks we were given were full of anger; hate. I could not be angry with them for judging. I knew I should hate him with every fiber of my meek being, but I didn't. I could not bring myself to. This boy was misunderstood by everyone.

Everyone but me.

-.-.-.-

_So take this night_

_Wrap it around me like a sheet_

_I know I'm not forgiven,_

_But I need a place to sleep_

-.-.-.-

It was late February when I realized I was in too deep. Despite the rumors that were secretly in love which were flying over Hogwarts, I had never thought them to be true. Never until I was beside the lake one night, beneath our tree. He sat beside me in silence for a few moments and watched me. I watched him in return, my eyes meeting his.

He was troubled. The expression on his brow that night was nothing I had seen before, not in anyone. He was at peace, but his eyes were troubled. He was beautiful. I reached out to him, dragging my fingers down his cheek, cupping it with my palm. He brought his hand to cover mine and leaned forward, claiming my mouth.

I had never felt this before. Not with Harry, or anyone. I couldn't respond for moments. I regained myself and kissed him in return, but when we pulled away he just smiled.

"Thank you, Ginevra," he said softly. My eyes crumpled. I could not believe him thanking me for a kiss, but that wasn't it. "You didn't have to forgive me," he said. "But you did."

I nodded but could not speak. We walked back into the castle, his fingers laced with my own. I felt complete. We re-entered his room from the Common Room, receiving many sneers and remarks. We had just confirmed their suspicious of our secret relationship, but neither of us seemed to care.

Hours later I laid awake beneath the sheets of his bed, gently caressing the long scar on his bare chest from the year before, given to him by the man I was supposed to love. I glanced around knowing that I should feel ashamed over the abandoned clothing scattered throughout the room.

But I didn't.

-.-.-

_So take this night_

_Lay me down on the street_

_I know I'm not forgiven,_

_But I hope that I'll be given some peace_

-.-.-

Harry returned to Hogwarts the following morning, greeted with news that his woman had been claimed by his enemy. He was angry when I emerged from the Slytherin Common Room, hand in hand the blond I had come to love. I almost thought he was going to hit me. Or Draco.

But he hadn't. He nodded when he saw me, as if he understood, and turned away from me. I promised Draco I would meet him soon, his stony expression telling me not to go, though I knew I had to.

Harry walked with me to the lake where I tearfully admitted that I was involved with Draco Malfoy. He clung desperately to my affection for him from the year before, which I had to explain was not love. He nodded, though I knew he was breaking.

"I can't accept this, Gin," he said. "You know that."

I nodded.

"We found the last one," he told me. The last Horcrux. Yes, I knew. "The war will be coming soon." I nodded. This I knew as well.

"He'll have to choose, you know. He'll have to pick a side." I nodded. "Gin," Harry said. I looked in his eyes. "He won't choose you."

_-.-.-_

_There's a game that I play_

_There are rules I had to break_

_There's mistakes that I've made_

_But I made them my way_

_-.-.-_

Harry had been right. Everything happened so fast. I felt as if I watching as my life spun out of control and I could do nothing. Just watch.

May 13th I awoke at midnight, covered by nothing but a sheet, and realized I was alone with nothing but a letter folding into three rectangles and left on the pillow which had been previously occupied by the mass of blond hair that I had come to adore. Reluctantly, I read.

_Ginevra,_

_I know you will not understand what I have done. You will not believe what I am going to tell you and will me for the rest of your life, but I must explain myself._

_You know the war is upon us. After disappointing my father and Voldemort last year I have become an outcast. This you also know. You had to know that they would come for me eventually. My father visited me last week. I have returned with him to fulfill the duties which are planned for me._

_Do not blame yourself as I know you will. You were the best thing ever to happen to me, do not doubt that. You were the only one to understand me when I was alone, and I will be eternally grateful for what you've given to me. I only regret that I could not return the peace you have brought me._

_You have to know that I love you, Ginevra. This is something I never thought possible of myself, and I know you can never return this sentiment after what I have done. _

_Please do not attempt to follow me. My only remaining wish is for your safety. In my drawer I have left the remainder of the money left to my name. I will not need it where I am going. The war will be coming soon. Keep yourself safe._

_If I should never see you again, know that I love you._

_Draco _

My body became numb as I stared at the words before my eyes. Shakily I opened the drawer to which he had referred. Sure enough, inside there lay a sack full of golden coins. I had just inherited more money than I had seen in my life, but I didn't care.

-.-.-

_So take this night_

_Wrap it around me like a sheet_

_I know I'm not forgiven,_

_But I need a place to sleep_

-.-.-

For a week I did not leave his room, or even his bed. I clung to the smell of his body, the feel of his cloak, the only article of clothing he had left me with. I hated him for everything that he was, everything he had done.

May 20th I left the room, locking the door behind me. No Slytherins were left in the Common Room. It was only me.

I went to the lake and sat beneath our tree, wearing nothing but his cloak and my own knickers. Memories of the previous months flooded into my mind and I felt a tingly sensation crawl through my spine. He was with me.

"Why did you do it?" I whispered.

"I had to," he answered me simply. I whipped my head around. There he stood. The bags had returned to his eyes and the brokenness shown through once more. I stood and faced him. "I can't stay," he told me. "I came to bring you this." He held the journal I had given him out to me, eyeing the locket which never left my neck. I took it, tucking it away.

My head was shaking. "You can't," I told him. "This isn't who you are."

"Don't do this, Ginevra," he pleaded. "This is who I must be."

I shook my head, drawing my face tightly. "I hate you," I told him fiercely, a few defiant tears slipping down my cheeks. Without thinking, I reacted. My hand pulled back and slapped his cheek as hard as I could. He did not react.

He nodded. "I know."

It angered me how calm he was. I reached my hand up to smack him again but he caught me, drawing me into his chest. I sobbed into him, not wanting to let go. "Don't," I begged into his shoulder. "Don't leave me."

"I love you," he whispered into my hair, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"No," I pleaded, but he was already leaning away. I shook my head and frantically begged. "No, no, no…"

His eyes were pained. "Goodbye, Ginevra."

And he was gone.

-.-.-

_So take this night_

_Lay me down on the street_

_I know I'm not forgive,_

_But I hope that I'll be given some peace._

-.-.-

The war came the next morning and was over before I could register that it had begun. It took place at Hogwarts, the supposed most safe place. I had stayed to assist healing the wounded, but was able to glance at the window in time to see him fall.

It happened so fast I couldn't react. He was killed by Voldemort, who was moments later struck down. Harry had won, yet still I felt sad. There sprawled on the rim of the lake was the body of my lover.

I ran. Ran away from the Hospital, away from the beckoning calls, away from the cheering healers. I ran to him. As I stumbled down beside his body I finally saw.

He was at peace.

His body was cremated; his ashes handed to me in a silver jar. Both of his parents were dead. It was Harry who insisted I have them.

The service was days later. I didn't understand. To the world, I was dead. It wasn't until Harry approached me that I knew why Draco received honorable mention after his reuniting with Voldemort and his death.

"He wasn't against us after all," Harry said. "He chose you."

I didn't understand. He chose me? My hand idly reached up to touch the silver pendant encircling my neck.

"He joined them because they threatened your life," Harry explained when I made no response. "But he distracted Voldemort in the end. He saved my life in exchange for his own."

Still I could not reply. Was it true? Was I even still alive? How could I be, without him?

"I suppose he felt guilty, because of Dumbledore," Harry wondered aloud.

I wanted to scream. I knew Draco had felt guilty, though guilt never would have driven him to this.

"You were right about him, Gin," Harry said. I shuddered, hardly remembering the nickname. His hand was on my shoulder, and then he was gone.

-.-.-

_So take this night_

_Wrap it around me like a sheet_

_I know I'm not forgiven but I need a place to sleep_

_So take this night_

_Lay me down on the street_

_I know I'm not forgiven but I hope that I'll be given some peace._

_-.-.-_

Ten years later I sat alone in the parlor of a country home on the outskirts of London. The journal I had come to know so well was opened before me, Draco's proper script pouring over the pages. He told me everything I knew and didn't know. He talked about me, about wanting to spend his life with me. About the life he had when he was with me. He told me how he was never really on Voldemort's side during the war, but I had to believe he was so I would not follow him.

Here I was ten years later, living off his funds, raising his son. Draco James, Malfoy, which was the name I had taken for myself when I could comprehend what he had done. He left me to save me.

I would never forget that night when Fate brought us together. He was a disaster, beautiful in every way.

I never got the chance to tell him that I loved him.

But I had.

-.-.-.-

**So what do you think? It's my first ever one-shot, and I wrote this at 3 to 4 in the morning. It was sad to write, and I'm not sure I like it much.**

**Let me know?**

**Thanks for reading. Review if you please.**

**Lady Cardea**


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